


The Angry Red Marks

by SereneFreakGeek



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Blood, Cutting, Dissociation, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, trigger warning, tw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-09
Updated: 2017-10-09
Packaged: 2019-01-15 03:57:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12313311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SereneFreakGeek/pseuds/SereneFreakGeek
Summary: This was made for an 'Angst Challenge' with the prompt 'hurt/comfort' that XxTheDarkLordxX and I made for each other. Just a small thing between the two of us, since we are both big Fluff writers.Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy AUDraco Malfoy has been struggling with his mental health issues after the war and finds himself doing anything to cover the horrid tattoo on his arm. His friends begin to worry, which just causes Draco to fall deeper into himself, until one day his secret was discovered. Only one person is able to pull Draco from the brink, but would he reach out a hand?





	The Angry Red Marks

**Author's Note:**

  * For [XxTheDarkLordxX](https://archiveofourown.org/users/XxTheDarkLordxX/gifts).



> If you didn't already read the tag, major Trigger Warnings for cutting, blood, and dissociation.  
> This story hasn't been beta read, only looked through by google doc's spell check and grammar.ly.

The knife in his hand had grown to be his favourite object. The sleek, shining silver folding blade with the black handle that has an engraving of a dragon on it’s side had used to rest under his pillow when not in use, though sharing a room with Blaise was starting to become a strain. He had no one to stop him before, over the summer when he had his own room and wore long sleeves to cover his scars and fresh cuts intermingling. Now he had two roommates, and while one didn’t seem to care what either of the boys were doing, too focused on studying, his best friend Blaise seemed to grow suspicious and worried. Why did it care to him, anyway?

Blaise had whispered toward Pansy what he had suspected, and Draco had known that while Pans stuck up for him at first, eventually she grew to be worried with an anxious look in her eyes that spoke of her wanting to bring it up but not knowing how. Pansy was very blunt in all areas that didn’t matter, but being blunt in this would just shut Draco down from responding, Pansy knew. Draco also knew that his two best friends suspected, and while their worried looks kept growing over time, he had sunk into himself and knew the ‘speech’ was coming. The speech of always having a better alternative, the speech of hurting yourself doesn’t help get you better, the speech of you’re just hurting yourself more, not making it better. Whatever the speech, he had heard it from the multiple mind healers that his mother had sent him to over the summer.

So, with Blaise growing suspicious and searching Draco’s things, Draco had come to find out one night when his math textbook was upside down and not how he left it, Draco had come to just keep the blade on him at all times. It was always safely tucked into his robes, though while just the knowledge of it being there added some comfort, it also added the point that he could escape to the bathroom at any time and use it. His left arm was a mess of scars and cuts, disfiguring the tattoo underneath. That’s how it had started. Draco hated that tattoo on his arm with everything he was. This had been the only solution he could think of.

Of course, the pain had started to make him feel better. Draco grew addicted to the ‘relief’ of the pain, and soon started cutting on his other arm. He didn’t feel like it was a competition, he didn’t feel the need to use any other body parts other than his arms. Draco had felt curious one time and tried his leg, though it never gave him the satisfaction as the arms did. He knew it was probably bad, the fact that he loved the way the scars looked, or how the healing cuts felt, or how stark in contrast the blood looked against his pale skin. He knew it was bad, but it was a better bad than the bad he had been before.

So here Draco sat, on a seat in a stall of the boys bathroom, clutching the knife in his right hand, his left running through his hair. He had worn a white shirt today, though his robe sleeves covered the white of the shirt. If he cut right now, he knew the shirt would stain. It wouldn’t exactly show, since his robes covered it, but it also wouldn’t be good for Blaise to find it later. But his pain was growing in his chest, he felt like he couldn’t breath through the anxiety, and knew this was the only fix to it. Maybe he  _ should _ start cutting on his leg again? Sure, he wouldn’t be able to see it often, but no one else would see it either. 

The sound of the door bursting open had Draco startled, looking toward his stall door in terror. Flashbacks fell through his mind and he squeezed his eyes shut. Don’t make a noise, don’t let them know you’re in here. He quickly pocketed his knife once again, knowing that if he was caught with it not only would it be taken away but he’d be expelled. Draco heard soft footsteps, then a sink being turned on. Draco sat there for a moment longer before standing, fixing his robes. He didn’t know exactly who was out there, but apparently they had decided that right now was not the time for cutting. He opened the stall door, a tad curious, and hesitated when he saw a mop of brown hair kneeling over the sink. Of course, it would be Potter.

Potter, the boy who haunted his nightmares and dreams. Potter, who had saved the wizarding world with Draco’s wand and still was nice enough to give it back at the start of the year. Potter, who had been acting so much nicer to Draco and it infuriated him because he could have just acted like everything was normal and not that Draco was a charity case. Draco walked up, turning on his own sink and beginning his process of washing his hands. The noise apparently startled Potter, who had lifted his head up suddenly, reaching over for the towel to dry his face off, staring at Draco as if trying to decide if he was really there. 

“Put on your glasses, Potter. Then perhaps you wouldn’t have to stare for so long.” Draco murmured, though not unkindly. He turned off his tap and began drying his hands, watching Potter out of the corner of his eye fumbling with those little wire-framed glasses. Draco rolled his eyes, turning and beginning his walk toward the exit.

“Wait, Malfoy!” Potter yelled out, and Draco hesitated. He hated that name so much, it only ever reminded him of his father and their mistakes.

“Yes?” Draco asked tersely, reminding himself gently that Potter doesn’t know this. Potter has been nice to him recently, he hasn’t purposefully done anything to Draco that would cause Draco to act rudely toward him.

“I just- I was wondering if you wanted to hang out sometime?” Potter asked, and Draco glanced behind himself toward the boy suddenly with confusion. Draco studied him, the way he was slightly slouched over, clutching his hands together and wringing them, the nervousness in his face while he bites his lower lip. Draco watched Potter begin to bounce from leg to leg slightly and had to admit, this boy knew how to act.

“Stop acting so sincere. I know this is just you taking a charity case. Who put you up to it, huh? Blaise, Pansy, Pomfrey?” Draco growled out, causing Potter to flinch back some, a look of confusion crossing his face.

“What? I wasn’t-”

“Don’t pretend to care, Potter. Who ever would?” Draco growled out, turning and beginning his march toward the door. Though, quicker than Draco thought he could move, Potter was next to him grabbing his arm to stop him.

“Mal-”

Draco’s cry of pain interrupted Potter, and Potter quickly recoiled, looking at his own hand then back to Draco quickly. Draco brought his arm close against his chest, a look crossing his face of a kid with their hand stuck in a cookie jar. Would Potter know, or understand, what just happened?

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you,” Potter whispered, and Draco had to clench his eyes closed at the sound of pain in his voice. He was  _ such _ a good actor.

“I don’t need your pity,” Draco whispered, turning and leaving the bathroom. This time, Potter hadn’t moved to stop him.

 

_________________________

 

“What do you mean Potter ran into you in the bathroom?” Pansy whispered over, her brow furrowing. “What did he do?” Draco sighed, rubbing his face. He glanced up, making sure that Professor Binns was still doing his thing before turning to face her.

“He didn’t  _ do _ anything to me, Pans. He’s been nice to me all year.” He whispered back, glancing up as Professor Binns started writing on the board, moving to grab his quill and copy the notes. “He just-” Draco began, sighing at Pansy’s look, “He just asked to hang out with me.”

“What? Did you agree to that?” Pansy asked, a bit shaken by this turn of events. She grabbed her own quill, writing down the notes quickly before looking and focusing her full attention on Draco, causing him to squirm slightly.

“No, of course not. It had to be a trick.”

“But you just said that Potter hasn’t done anything to you all year.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean that he won’t  _ start _ doing stuff to me once he realizes how I am.” Draco murmured softly, writing the next few words that Professor Binns begins to scribble onto the board. “Look, just drop it, Pansy.” 

“Whatever.” She whispered arrogantly.

“Drop what?” Blaise asks as he slides into his seat on Draco’s left.

“Draco had a conversation with Potter in the bathroom,” Pansy whispered immediately, causing Draco to groan.

“What? What did he do?” Blaise asked, immediately losing interest in Professor Binns.

“He didn’t do anything!” Draco whispered, widening his eyes and focusing them onto the parchment in front of him.

“Potter asked Draco if he wanted to hang out,” Pansy supplied, grinning.

“Did he accept it?” Blaise asked incredulously, and Draco groaned lowly one more time before glancing up to Pansy shaking her head ‘no’ in response.

“I asked you to drop it, please.” Draco whispered a tad too loudly, causing Professor Binns to clear his throat at the front of the class. The three of them immediately bowed their heads to their work, ignoring the glaring looks from the other students in the room. A few minutes more of class goes by, Draco finally glad the subject is dropped, before Blaise leans over and whispers into Draco’s ear.

“You finally got Potter to notice you, why did you deny his request?”

The thought infuriated Draco, and he flexed his hand underneath the table to keep from punching it across Blaise’s face. He hadn’t been trying to get Potter’s attention this entire time, that’s not what their relationship was. He had always got Potter’s attention, even if it was in a bad way. And it’s not like Potter would’ve ever  _ liked _ Draco in that way, that was just a stupid fantasy that would never pan out. Draco got over that a long time ago.

 

_________________________

 

Draco sat on a blanket next to the lake, his folded knife in hand, staring off into nothing while the sun sets in front of him. He wasn’t admiring the colours, or the sparkling of the water in front of him, more than he was just staring off in a direction as he felt lost to the world. He felt unreal, like he was watching himself sit there doing nothing. His limbs felt heavy, like it would take extra pushing to just lift a hand. Doing nothing felt like the right thing to do, what else was he supposed to be doing?

“Malfoy?” The voice had startled him, causing him to jump and regain some hold in his world. He glanced up toward the voice, trying to give himself a mask of indifference even though he had been horribly surprised and hated himself for it. He was always so alert, he never let anyone sneak up on him before.

“Potter?” Draco asked carefully, studying the figure in front of him. Draco thought back to the few times he imagined seeing Potter next to him, having a conversation with Potter while no one else was around, and slowly wondered if he was losing his mind. Now he was  _ seeing _ the boy? He was hallucinating?

“Hi,” Potter began, biting his lip and raising a hand to rub the back of his head. “I’m sorry, you just surprised me. I didn’t expect you to be out here.” Draco studied him for a moment before scooting over on his blanket, patting the spot next to him. Potter took on a look of confusion before Draco chuckled humorlessly, sliding his hand into his chest pocket, sliding the knife he hoped Potter hadn’t noticed into his pocket.

“Don’t look so confused. It just makes you look like you’re more stupid than you actually are.” The fading light cast small shadows around, a weird twilight sort of look fell around them, and Draco couldn’t help but think perhaps this was just a dream. Everything looked so  _ fantasy _ . “Come, sit. You were the one who wanted to hang out in the first place” Draco whispered, moving his hand and leaning forward, wrapping his arms around his knees. Potter slowly moved, sitting gracelessly onto the blanket next to him. They sat like that for a few moments before Potter spoke up, almost as if he was afraid of silence.

“Why are you out here?” He asked, and Draco let his head lean forward, resting the right side of his head on his knees as he watched Potter. The eerie twilight surrounding them gave the messy haired boy a nice glow, and Draco felt a stirring in his stomach once again that he used to be able to avoid before. His crush was forming once again, though Draco had no energy to fight it anymore.

“Avoiding my friends.” Draco answered truthfully, watching for a reaction from the boy wonder. If Potter had been surprised, he didn’t show it. The boy seemed to contemplate this before nodding slowly.

“Yeah, me too.” Potter glanced over, watching as Draco smirked slightly.

“What, Granger and the Weasel too much to handle?” Draco asked, watching Potter perform a small eye roll.

“All Hermione wants to do is study, and all Ron wants to do is training.” Potter leans back against his arms, letting his head fall back as if he was exhausted.

“And what do you want to do?” Draco whispered, watching as this seemed to surprise Potter. He lifted his head, eyeing the blond boy with suspicion. This look Draco knew well, and closed his eyes so he wouldn’t have to see it. “Nevermind, forget I asked.” Draco spoke up, aggravated. He turned his head, resting his forehead against his knees as he felt his knife in his pocket press against his chest. He hasn’t used it all day, thanks to Potter himself actually, and it had felt weird to him.

“No, no that’s not it. I was just confused- no one had ever asked me that before.” Potter quickly assured, sitting up and placing a hand on Draco’s back causing him to flinch. Potter once again quickly withdrew his hand, and Draco began to seriously consider just leaving. “I don’t know what I would rather be doing. I’ve been strung along doing whatever it was anyone else wanted me to do for so long, I don’t even know if I have an original thought in my body.”  Draco chuckled quietly, shaking his head against his knees.

“Well, you’re talking to me.  _ That _ has to be original, considering no one else in the world besides my mother and Pansy and Blaise would ever do so.” Draco mumbled, keeping his eyes closed. He heard an intake of breath from Potter, though waited, wondering what would happen next. Again, the thought of leaving crossed his mind, though less so, his curiosity getting the better of him.

“Perhaps that’s what I would rather do then,” Potter whispered, causing Draco to lift his head in confusion and glance toward the boy who was staring at him. Draco had to be understanding this wrong.

“What?”   
“If it’s an original thought, one that I know no one else is wanting me to do, then that’s what I choose. You asked earlier what I want to do,” Potter explained, smiling softly at the tortured blond boy, “And my answer is to talk to you.” 

This caused Draco to stare at Potter for a long amount of time before turning his head and resting his chin on his knees. The world around them was growing dark quickly, and soon Draco knew they wouldn’t be able to see even a little ahead of them. Draco welcomed the darkness, but soon the wand next to him was full of light at an uttered word, and Draco glanced lazily toward the colourful yet colourless light at the end of Potter’s wand, watching as it was set in between the two of them.This struck Draco suddenly, at the trust Potter was putting in Draco to have let his wand rest so close to him. The only response Draco could think was to grab his own wand, utter ‘Lumos’ quietly, and set it right next to Potter’s own.

“I have nothing interesting to say,” Draco said quietly, lifting his hand from his wand and glancing upward to stare into the weirdly lit face of Harry Potter.

“I’d still like to hear it regardless,” Potter mumbled, smiling softly and lifting a hand to rub the back of his neck. Draco watched his gesture closely, wondering what it meant. Potter had already performed this gesture three times. Was it because he was nervous? Was Draco’s presence nerve-wracking to Potter?

“I don’t see your reasoning behind this,” Draco answered, causing a large sigh from Potter, who glanced away to look at their wands lying between the two. 

“Does everything have to have a reason behind it?” Potter grumbled, moving his hands to start wringing them slightly.

“Yes,” Draco answered, slightly glaring toward the side of the boy’s head. Once again, they sat in silence before Draco slowly reached for his wand, taking ahold and standing. He didn’t bother uttering a goodbye before just walking away.

 

_________________________

 

Blaise was following him everywhere. The common room, the potions room, their bedroom. Blaise was there. Blaise was  _ everywhere _ . Even using the bathroom, Blaise had followed him into the boys room, though finally gave Draco reprieve when Draco entered the stall. ‘ _ What. The fuck. Is this. _ ’ Draco wondered to himself, pulling the knife from his robe pocket. He had showered this morning alone, and dressed in a black button up this time, and was glad for the colour of his shirt. He immediately pulled his sleeve up, flipping open the blade and pressing it lightly against his skin, which mostly consisted of scars now that it was Blaise’s mission to never let him be alone. He knew that Blaise was trying to keep him from cutting, but Draco was getting fed up with it. He glared down at the tattoo that showed prominately through scars, though was only covered by fresh woods or scabs. That’s why he had continued to do it, the white scars being interrupted by the black ink pissing him off.

“Potter?” Blaise’s voice spoke up, confused, and Draco suddenly lifted the blade away from his skin. What?

“Oh, hey Zabini,” Potter spoke as if bored, and Draco quietly folded his blade closed. Why had Potter shown up each time he was about to do this? The sink was turned on, and Draco stood, fixing his robes before exiting the stall not too long after he entered.

“Done already, Draco?” Blaise asked, lifting a suspicious eyebrow toward him. Draco just rolled his eyes, walking toward the sink and turning on the tap to wash his hands. That’s when he noticed, he hadn’t rolled down his sleeves. His eyes widened, staring at the red and raw, scabbed left arm ahead of him as his hand still resting on the knob of the tap. He quickly retracted his arm, pulling the sleeve down quickly before glancing up to see if anyone noticed.

Of course, they both did.

Potter and Blaise began talking at the same time, loudly, trying to overpower the other. Draco couldn’t understand a word of what was being said, retreating inside his brain as he took a few steps backward, away from the barrage of noises. He couldn’t take this, the insinuations and protests. He turned, immediately walking toward the exit and walking out the door. 

 

He wasn’t going back to class, that was for sure. Pansy is there, and Blaise will be there soon to tell Pansy, and if he couldn’t handle their suspicious stares before he definitely can’t handle their  _ knowing _ stares now. He decided perhaps a calming draught would be good, considering his heart was beating faster than he ever remembered it to, and his chest was constricting in a way that was physically painful and he could hardly breathe. What was he thinking, walking out of that stall with his sleeve rolled up? Why had he been so stupid?

He began climbing the stairs toward the infirmary, wondering if Madam Pomfrey would let him stay overnight. Perhaps if he asked, she couldn’t refuse, right? Just for one night? The thought of not having to go back to class or back to his common room or bedroom calmed him slightly. Delaying the inevitable might not be smart, but it definitely made him feel better. He pushed into the infirmary, glancing around with a pleased expression at the lack of anyone in the room. Madam Pomfrey finally left her office, walking over and hesitating slightly when she noticed who it was.

“Draco? Did we have an appointment? I thought that I set it for Saturday.” Madam Pomfrey asked, confused. Draco had to stop himself from interrupting her halfway through, knowing being rude would get him nowhere.

“Yes, that is for this Saturday, I’m here for a different reason.” He spoke clearly, trying to keep his clenching chest pain out of his voice. He took a few steps closer, but apparently he hadn’t been hiding his predicament very well as she immediately rushed to the corner, coming back with a calming draught. He knew what it was immediately as he grabbed the bottle, the shape and colour of the potion all too familiar now. He immediately opened and down the bottle, sighing as he felt the pain start to ease in his chest immediately. “Madam,” He began, biting his lip and handing the empty bottle over to her. She looked at him still worriedly, taking the bottle without question. “I was wondering if I could stay here overnight?” Draco whispered, glancing up into her pity-filled eyes. The expression had always irked him, though less so when it involved the nurse. There was just something about her personality that made Draco think she didn’t think she was better than anyone else.

“Yes. Of course.” She nodded, smiling softly as she took in his form. “Where is your school bags?” Draco took a moment to remember before sighing.

“I left them in class.” He replied quietly, glancing away guiltily.

“Alright. I’ll have them brought up along with the rest of your school assignments for the day.” She announced, causing him to glance up at her quickly. She ushered him quickly toward the back of the room, giving him his own little space and pulling the blinds closed around the bed. “I’m just going to check your vitals, and you can lay here while the calming draught takes effect. Then, when your homework is brought up I’ll bring it over. I expect you to complete your assignments before bed.” She explains sternly, withdrawing her wand and beginning the process.

 

_________________________

 

“Why do you even bother?” Pansy asked, scowling at Draco. He tried to mask his insecurities, but this only seemed to press her even further. “No one likes you here. Blaise and I only pity you, we haven’t left because we don’t want to be the reason for your suicide.” She leaned forward, her face near Draco’s own. “Everything is your fault anyway. You’re the reason so many people are dead.”

Draco stood and glanced around, beginning his trek toward the exit of his common room before running into Blaise. He took another step to walk around Blaise, but the boy took a side step and blocked off Draco’s path again. “Where do you think you’re going?” Blaise mocked, grinning mischievously. “You haven’t even heard the best part.” Blaise began taking a few steps toward Draco, causing him to take a few steps back in return. He didn’t want Blaise near him, not after what happened in that bathroom. 

Oh, what happened in the bathroom…

“You left without letting us tell you how we feel,  _ Malfoy _ .” Draco closed his eyes, shaking his head. He told his friends he hated his last name, why was Blaise doing this? “Though, Harry said he no longer wants to be around your dead ass anymore. He asked me to deliver you a message. He said that he regrets ever talking to you. He regrets putting in any effort to make you feel better.” Draco continued to take steps back until his back was pressed against the wall.

“Ohhh, lookie there Blaise, our poor little  _ Malfoy _ baby is  _ crying _ ,” Pansy spoke, walking next to Blaise and lacing their fingers together before letting out a cruel laugh. Draco began shaking his head, sliding down the wall to his feet, wrapping his arms around his legs. 

“No, no. This isn’t happening.” Draco whispered to himself, trying to push through this.

“ _ Everything _ is your fault, Malfoy, don’t you know? You deserve all the glares you get, all the insults and pranks. You deserve all the bullying you get, for bullying others how you did before. I wouldn’t even be surprised if people tried to  _ kill _ you, considering how you’re the reason most people are dead.” Blaise spoke back, though the two of them stayed in place holding hands.

“Go ahead, cut yourself. It’s not going to make anything better.” Pansy sneered out, laughing cruelly once more.

“Go ahead, cut yourself. It’s not going to cover up that tattoo. The  _ proof _ that everything is your fault.” 

“Stop it,” Draco whined, clutching at his ears. “Stop it, please.”

“Malfoy.” Draco lifted his head quickly, blinking away tears to see clearly.  _ No. It couldn’t be. _

“Malfoy.” Draco glanced to his left, noticing Harry standing in the doorway. He had a sneer, glaring toward Draco. “Malfoy.” The boy said again, before sudden panic crossed Harry’s face. Draco hated that look, it was the exact look Harry had donned during the battle. “Malfoy!” Harry began chanting, louder and louder. Draco couldn’t look away from that face, from the fear in his eyes. And then-

 

_________________________

 

“Malfoy!” Draco was shaken awake, gasping for breath and sitting up quickly, pushing away whoever had been grabbing ahold of him. Draco blinked a bit, taking in the darkness of the room. Then his eyes fell onto a mop of brown hair, of glowing green eyes full of worry, and his heart immediately sank.

“What?” Draco rasped out, blinking and glancing away before turning toward his bedside table and grabbing the glass of water sitting there, taking a few drinks.

“What are you doing here?” Harry whispered, worry still full in his eyes and expression.

“I decided to stay the night,” Draco began once he finished his water, setting the cup down once more, “I couldn’t go back to my room after what happened.” 

“I looked everywhere for you. You didn’t come back to class-” Harry shook his head, a silly look of determination on it, “Draco, I was so worried you did something stupid.” Draco studied him for a moment before sighing, glancing away.

“Would it really be that stupid?” Draco whispered, moving his right hand to rub his left arm over fabric, feeling the scabs catch at the cloth. “The world would be better off without me.”

“No.” Harry’s demanding voice had drawn Draco’s eyes back to him, confusion lacing his own facial features.

“What?”

“No. The world wouldn’t be better off without you.” Harry said sternly, moving and sitting on the bed near Draco without even asking. Draco scooted over slightly, and Harry rolled his eyes and sat even closer onto the bed. “You were the reason I was able to win the war. Without  _ you _ , no one would be here now. Or, we would be here, but in entirely different circumstances.” Harry spoke truthfully, though Draco just rolled his eyes in response.

“Without me, not as many people would be dead,” Draco whispered, causing Harry to flinch. 

“What?” Harry practically yelled, then widened his eyes and glanced around before placing a hand on the other side of Draco and leaning closer to him. “Don’t you dare say that,” Harry said seriously, glaring into Draco’s eyes.

“Why not, it’s the truth,” Draco said seriously, though a bit tiredly. He stared back into Harry’s eyes, wondering quietly to himself when he started thinking of him as  _ Harry _ and not as  _ Potter _ .

“It’s  _ not _ .” Harry ground out, growing frustrated. He sat there for a moment, the two breathing each other’s air before backing up suddenly and reaching for Draco’s arm. Though, he didn’t just grab and yank for it without asking. He had reached, but left his hand there, looking to Draco for permission. It had taken Draco by surprise, he never thought someone would ever  _ ask _ to see it, everyone only ever demanded or forced him to.

“What if I say no?” Draco whispered in response, watching Harry hesitate slightly, but not move.

“ _ Are _ you saying no?” Harry asked back at the same volume, watching Draco intently. They sat there for a moment more, so long that Draco would have thought Harry’s arm would get tired, but he stayed in place. Finally, Draco lifted his arm toward Harry and placed it in his hand.

Gently, and slowly, Harry lifted his other hand and began pushing Draco’s sleeve down. The moment the first red mark was shown, Harry hesitated, stopping his advance to stare at the angry mark against the pale skin. Harry bit his lip, glancing quickly up to meet Draco’s eyes before looking back down at it again. Harry seemed hesitant, though began moving slowly, bending at the hip and leaning forward toward his arm. Draco froze, tensing himself. What was he doing?   
Soon, he felt Harry’s breath against his arm, then his lips brushing the skin lightly before they pressed against the skin. Draco drew in a breath, and Harry just raised up slightly, looking up at Draco through his eyelashes. His sleeve was rolled up just a tad more, and Harry moved up slightly, placing another kiss on the newly exposed skin. This happened again, causing Draco’s heart to race and his breath to hitch. Harry was holding his wrist, could he feel the increased rate of his heartbeat? Why was this happening anyway?

“This is a dream,” Draco choked out, his voice cracking slightly though his eyes were locked onto the mop of brown hair leaning over his arms. The hands holding him lightly suddenly tightened, as if possessively, and Harry glanced up once more through his lashes. Slowly, the sleeve was rolled up slightly more, and Harry placed one more kiss before speaking.

“This isn’t.” He did it again, rolling the sleeve up ever so slightly every time, as if he wanted to kiss each individual cut. But there were so many. “If you want me to stop just say so. I just-” Harry hesitated, glancing up toward Draco once more and biting his lip before leaning down and light caressing his arm with the slightest hint of those same lips once more. “I saw the angry red marks and I just- I wanted to kiss them better.”

Draco felt heat radiate softly off of Harry’s cheeks onto his arm just from the close proximity, which was the only way he knew that Harry had been blushing while surrounded by darkness. “This can’t be real.” Draco whispered once more, placing his free hand on Harry’s head, causing the boy to once again glance up at him through his lashes. “Turn on the light, I want to see you.” Draco demanded this through their whispers, and watched as Harry hesitated slightly, glancing back down at Draco’s arm before biting his lip and sitting up slowly.

“I’m not done with that.” Harry whispers fiercely, glancing up and meeting Draco’s eyes once more. With a slow nod from Draco, Harry moves to stand, sliding the curtains closed and peeking outside to make sure that Madame Pomfrey hasn’t noticed their happenings. Slowly, Harry withdrew and wand and tapped the candle on the bedside table, lighting it before duplicating it and creating about four other candles to hover around the bed to give an adequate amount of light. Finally, Harry sat back down, studying Draco who hadn’t moved an inch since Harry had begun this process.

“Why?” Draco asked quietly, searching Harry’s eyes as if he held the answers to everything. Why was this happening? Why did it feel like Harry was healing every part of himself with every slow kiss he placed on his arm? Why was he  _ kissing _ his arm to begin with? There were so many questions loaded into that word, and he had felt the beginning pricks of tears forming in his eyes, biting his cheek to try and keep them at bay.

Harry placed his hand on the opposite side of Draco, leaning forward toward him, into her personal space, once again. “I want to prove to you that everything is okay Draco.” Harry slowly reached forward, gingerly placing his hand over the sore arm though never breaking eye contact with Draco. Draco was mesmerized, he didn’t understand why any of this was happening, couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that it  _ was _ happening.

“Why?” Draco asked again, his eyes starting to brim with tears as he stared into the honest green ones. 

“Because you are a good person, Draco. And I want you to see in yourself what I see in you.” Harry lifted his hand off of Draco’s arm, moving and wiping a tear away that had fallen onto Draco’s cheek finally. Draco’s breath caught as Harry left his hand on his cheek, the press against his skin feeling  _ way _ too reassuring.

“Why?” Draco whispered again, barely, and blinked away some tears that had begun to cloud his vision of Harry.

“Because seeing you earlier, with those red marks on your arm, had hurt me so much to know that you were hurting. I wanted to make it better immediately. I searched for you everywhere, and every moment I couldn’t find you sent me spiraling quicker and quicker into an empty pit in my gut. I went back to my common room and threw up. I was numb, scared, and my friends were worried. They finally sent me here, and when I saw you everything fell back into place.” Harry leaned forward closer, their noses brushing slightly. “I’m sorry if this isn’t what you want. I just want you to know that you are  _ wanted _ .” He leaned forward, brushing his lips against Draco’s. “I won’t do it if you don’t want me to. But-” His voice cracked and he tried again, closing his eyes, “But, man, do I  _ want _ to.”

Draco leaned forward the rest of the way, slamming their lips together and raising his free hand to wrap around the back of Harry’s neck. He felt Harry moan against the kiss, and in turn did the same once he felt a shiver run through Harry. They kissed, deeply and passionately, for what felt like a lifetime before finally breaking apart to breath. Harry immediately leaned down, continuing his journey up Draco’s arm now with a passion, kissing the scabs and fresh scars. Draco rolled his head back, closing his eyes. 

“How long?” Draco whispered, moving his head after a few moments and eyeing the boy of his dreams, the boy who had just kissed him. “How long have you, ‘ _ wanted _ ’ me?” He asked, his voice showing that he was still unsure if this was even possible or real. Harry glanced up through those lashes again, and  _ boy _ was that expression driving him crazy, and their eyes locked in silence for a few moments before Harry glanced hesitantly down toward his arm, placing another kiss before sitting up with a sigh.

“Longer than I care to admit. Probably even longer than I think.” Harry replied, keeping his eyes downcast. Draco watched him, unsure, for a few more moments. There was no way this could be real. Draco must have remained silent for too long as he watched Harry take a deep breath and finally lift his eyes to lock them with Draco’s gaze. The emerald eyes he had come to adore too much seemed almost hurt, and Draco furrowed his brow. Why would Harry be hurt by this?

“You don’t have to lie to me.” Draco suddenly whispered, his fears leaving his lips without permission from his brain. “You don’t have to pretend to like me just to make me feel better.” He watched Harry furrow his brows, though his mouth kept talking as if it ran the show here. “Who told you? Was it Blaise, in the bathroom? Did Pansy approach you asking you to make me feel better? I don’t know how they knew for sure, I always tried to keep my crush from them. Though, I guess it’s hard to do when you’re constantly staring at them in the hall or classrooms. When I tell them, ‘Keep me away from Potter at all costs,’ before I just storm up to you and start yelling curses just to get your attention, just to get those emerald eyes to look  _ my _ way for once.” Draco ran a hand through his hair, tearing his gaze away from Harry’s, feeling too much pain to see it reflected back at him through those honest, open eyes. “Which one was it? I bet it was Blaise. I don’t see why though. He had always been the quiet one of the group, he never actually told anyone anything even when he threatened to. Pansy was always the loud one, the gossiper. The girl couldn’t keep her mouth shut. Though I don’t see any instance that you could’ve ran into her. Either way, I knew this would happen eventually. They’re mad at me for-” Draco was suddenly interrupted with a press of a kiss against his mouth, and he softened suddenly, not realizing how tense he had been. 

Draco leaned into the kiss, realizing that Harry had just saved him from rambling on and on. Harry pulled away earlier than he would have liked though, and Draco let out a soft whine of protest. He opened his eyes, spying humour in green ones. “You whine?” Harry asked, grinning mischievously.

“Did you  _ not _ know me as a kid, Potter?” Draco asked, though playfully. The last name left his lips, though suddenly he felt guilty. He kept referring to Harry by his first name in his head, though just called him by his last. Was he even allowed to say his first name? Draco suddenly really wanted to. This didn’t seem to faze Harry, who raised a hand to cover a laugh, glancing toward the curtains as if scared that Madame Pomfrey would cut this short. Harry glanced back, removing his hand and grinning before leaning forward and placing a quick kiss on Draco’s lips.

“I know, I just didn’t think I’d actually hear you whine  _ for me _ .” Harry whispered, pressing his forehead against Draco’s own. Draco tried to glance away, but Harry was everywhere this close up. He felt his cheeks heating slightly and knew that the fuckers would be red as hell on his pale skin. They stayed like that for a moment before Harry backed up, looking seriously into Draco’s eyes. “No one told me. And I’m not pitying you, or faking this.” He scooted closer, moving his free hand to place against Draco’s cheek once more. “I  _ really _ want this. I want you. I want to get to know you more, and sit with you by the lake at twilight, and hold hands and kiss. I want to help you through your problems, through your sickness. I know it won’t be an overnight thing, and that it’ll be a process, but I want to be there for you.” He reached over, lightly taking Draco’s left arm and lifting it slowly, pressing a kiss against his pulse. “I want to kiss it all better. I want these scabs to become scars, and to never see these angry red marks on your skin again.” He suddenly looked worried, glancing away. “Was I-” Harry bit his lip before meeting Draco’s gaze once more. “Was I ever the reason for them?”

Draco’s breath hitched and he had to look away, guilt beginning to claw at him. This was a weird feeling, having never felt guilty for cutting himself. After all, it was his own pain, his own body to do with as he pleased. It was his own life, and his own treatment that had worked. But this was an entirely different perspective that he hadn’t considered before. He was hurting someone he cared about because he had cut for a reason that they were involved in. It seemed complicated, but it really wasn’t. Draco bit his lip, rather hard, before whispering out a confirmation. Harry’s grip tightened on Draco’s wrist and Draco closed his eyes, afraid of what he might see. Did he just get Harry to lose him a minute later? What would Draco do?

“I never want to be the cause of this again. Ever.” Harry whispered fiercely, and Draco couldn’t help but glance over and open his eyes, taking in the figure of the boy. He looked angry, but not at Draco. More like he was angry at himself. “What did I do?” He whispered, turning his attention toward Draco and immediately turning soft. “Anything I did I’m so sorry.” Harry immediately bent forward, nuzzling his face into Draco’s neck, kissing the racing pulse he felt there. 

“You never did anything. Most of the time I was punishing myself for liking you.” Harry tensed, before backing up and studying Harry. “You deserve someone far better than the likes of me. I don’t even deserve to think about you that way.” He whispered, everything he had once thought finally coming out as if it hadn’t plagued him for so many years.

“No,” Harry began before Draco shook his head, tears beginning to stream down his cheeks.

“Yes, Harry.” Harry seemed struct for a moment, before leaning forward and quickly pressing a kiss against a salty mouth, Draco moving in to kiss back like his life depended on it. He knew he shouldn’t be doing this, that Harry deserved so much better, but when he was  _ right there _ doing  _ this _ he couldn’t help himself. When they finally parted, Harry lifted both hands to cradle Draco’s face, wiping away the tears.

“You said Harry.” Draco blinked slightly, then realized he had, in fact, said his first name out loud. He nodded lightly in the boy’s hands. 

“I want to hear you say it so much more.” Harry whispered, looking directly into Draco’s eyes as if convincing him was the most important thing in this world. “I want to be here as you heal. I want to watch you bite your lip when you’re nervous, or glare at your friends when they make a stupid joke. I want to kiss the pulse in your neck, and kiss your cuts as they heal. I want to hold you and rock away all the bad dreams you have.” Harry leaned forward, pressing their foreheads together. “Please, believe me.”

“Harry,” Draco began, causing Harry to close his eyes as he says the name, “The more you get to know me, the more you’ll realize how bad I am. For you, for everyone.” Draco was able to hold back a sob, but his tears flowed freely now that they were released. His arm began to throb lightly, though he tried to tear his attention away from it.

“Then give me the chance. I want to prove to you that everything you just said is  _ wrong _ .” Harry whispered, opening his eyes to meet Draco’s with a hard seriousness. “Please give this a chance.” He leaned forward, pressing his lips lightly against Draco’s before Draco responded eagerly, leaning forward and kissing him back. They kissed for much longer than Draco had intended, though he was in no hurry to back away from it. When they finally parted, it took a moment for them to regain their breath, just staring into each other’s eyes.

“Harry. I can’t say no.” Draco replied quietly, watching Harry intently, “No matter how much I think it’s better for you not to be with me, you have to be the one to say no. I’m too selfish of a person to push away the only thing that’s made me happy in such a long time.” He watched the realization cross Harry slowly, and Harry’s face began to light up with happiness. “Just know that I don’t think I’m worthy of-” He was interrupted, again, with a kiss, before Harry backed up and smiled widely.

“I don’t care if you think you’re not ‘ _ worthy _ ,’ or whatever Draco. You are. And if you are saying that you’ll give me a chance, then I couldn’t be happier.”  Harry said, getting a little too loud in his excitement. Draco reached a hand out to place on Harry’s shoulder, glancing toward the curtains with a low ‘sh.’ Harry giggled lightly, leaning forward and nuzzling against Draco’s neck. “Please, let me kiss the rest of your arm. You kept interrupting me and I want to finish what I started.”


End file.
